Connected by Blades
by CelestePlue
Summary: Both were raised using swords. Both had lost a loved one. Both wanted revenge. She refused to use her blade, but he refused to never use his. Paths cross and blood is spilled. Tears are shed and shouting is heard. Despite that, they stuck together, no matter who was hurt by the swords that sliced them. IchiHime AU.
1. Chapter 1: Deaths

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The sound of a blade slicing through hay broke the silence, followed by a clap.

A ten year old girl stood sweating profusely and breathing heavily, sword in hand. In one swift motion, she sheathed her blade and smiled at her one-man audience.

"How was that Onii-chan?" she asked, her voice excited.

The man smiled appreciatively. "You're getting better," he replied, kicking one half of the hay flat. "Tighten your grip and use more power, okay?"

She nodded and he backed away as she unsheathed her blade once more. Usually, she wasn't a fighter, but her brother insisted that she learn to fight for her safety in the future. The girl didn't like how the blade felt in her hands - it didn't feel... right - but she knew her brother was just trying to help her.

She took a deep breath, tightened her grip, and swung with all her might. The hay severed into halves as it fell against the floor uselessly. Her brother smiled. "Better."

She squealed at the praise and sheathed her sword. The girl wasn't a warrior and she didn't see herself ever using these lessons in the future, but she practiced anyway to not disappoint her brother.

He patted her head gently. "I'm proud of you. You'll be a great fighter in the near future, Orihime."

She smiled tenderly and grabbed his hand, keeping it on her head.

"Thank you, Onii-chan."

:::::::

The sword was taller than his body and heavier in his grip, but he was told to wield it. As his opponent ran towards him, he brought up the onyx blade and blocked the oncoming attack with a grunt.

"Use your legs!"

His father sat on the side, watching his sons progress, coaching him when necessary. He saw the ten year old boy as a fighter, a protector, in the next few years. It was required to teach him how to use a sword to be able to protect what was his.

Thin arms encircled around his neck and he relaxed into the grip as his wife kissed the top of his head. "Don't be too hard on him now, love."

The man grinned and crossed his arms. "Come now. He's practically a stick! I have to train him somehow."

The boy blocked another attack and swung at his opponent, growling as they deflected the blow. He was much taller and way more experienced!

"Now now, Kurosaki-san. We can't have you getting frustrated, now can we?" the opponent said and lazily swiped at him again. The boy, in return, blocked the attack and pushed the sword away.

The mother frowned. "Dear, don't you think he's at a disadvantage? Urahara-san is a full grown adult."

Her husband turned his head around and poked her cheek, making her frown disappear. "It's alright. It's better this way. Means it'll be easier in the future. Just trust me, Masaki."

The woman, Masaki, hummed and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I suppose. But if he hurts our son, I'll grab _my_ blade and show _you_ how it's done. Okay, Kurosaki Isshin?"

Isshin grinned and playfully saluted. "Yes ma'am. But Ichigo will be just fine." He turned his head back to his son, who just blocked another attack. "Get on the offense boy!"

The boy, Ichigo, just groaned loudly before swinging his sword at Urahara, who grinned in return.

A future protector.

:::::::

Screams, blood, and fire were everywhere. Swords were drawn, battles were engaged and bodies were strewn about. But she didn't care.

She didn't care at all.

Orihime ran through the fields, her legs stomping against the wet soil. Rain poured over the forest, but that didn't stop her.

Her brother was in _danger_.

He had told her to stay back and wait, but she didn't listen. As soon as she saw him grip sword tightly as he gave her a sad smile, she knew something was wrong. As soon as he didn't say he'd return back to her, she knew something was _very_ wrong.

And she followed him as he left, grabbing her own blade in the process in case she needed it.

And she really needed it.

She didn't know she'd walk in a battlefield when she followed her brother. She didn't know that she'd have to dodge falling, decapitated bodies when she ran. She didn't even know that she'd promise to help people when they begged for life.

But she did.

"Onii-chan!" Orihime called, pushing her wet bangs out of her face. Quickly, she dug into her kimono and pulled out the blue hairclips her brother had gave to her, pinning back her hair and running again. Her sword was still in her hand, sheathed. Orihime refused to pull it out, not wanting to fight anyone and shed someones blood. She absolutely refused.

"Onii-chan!" she cried, frantically looking around the area.

Too much blood. Such big fires. So many bodies.

The stench.

The visual.

It was sickening.

Orihime had to choke back a sob as she truly took all of this in. Absorbed it completely. Everyone was _dying,_ and she didn't even know who they were!

She would help them, after she helped her brother.

"Onii-cha-"

Two large hands gripped her upper arms tightly and her eyes widened. Quickly, she was pulled into a hard chest and she screamed. Instantly, a hand covered her mouth.

"It's me."

Her brother.

Tears welled in her eyes and she spun her head around. There stood her brother, his brown hair caked with blood and a frown in place. Orihime smiled shakily, breathing out a sigh of relief.

He was alright.

"I told you to stay back. Why are you here? You shouldn't see this!" he nearly yelled, the worry clear in his voice.

"I was worried about you. Y-You were acting funny," she replied meekly.

"Go back home," he commanded.

"Will you return?"

He didn't answer.

"Just go back," he said, and Orihime didn't miss the sadness in his voice. Her bottom lip quivered.

"I won't leave without you."

"It's dangerous here."

"I want to help! People are -"

Her words were cut off with a gasp as she saw a silver blade plunge through her brothers chest. He cried out and dropped to his knees, the sword leaving his body as blood trickled out of his mouth and chest. Orihime's eyes widened in shock and she backed away numbly.

Sora's breathing became erratic as he held a hand to his chest and looked at his sister. She was pale. She was scared.

She was in _danger_.

"Run..." he croaked out. Her eyes moved from his and dropped to his hand, and then to his attacker who he had yet to see. She didn't move and he heard the feet behind him shuffle. "RUN!"

She jumped, turned, and was about to run, but she stood her ground. If she ran, she would be leaving her brother to die alone. He would bleed out on the filthy ground in the rain, and she would be gone.

She didn't want that.

Orihime gripped the hilt of her sword and pulled it free, turning to face the man. Brown hair fell just above his shoulders and a kind smile plastered itself onto his face. Mischief danced in his brown eyes.

False politeness.

Orihime fixed herself into a fighting stance, ready to attack. At first, she refused to use her weapon, but her brother's life was on the line.

She _needed_ to save him.

"Interesting," she heard the man mutter. Her eyes narrowed and she tightened her grip.

"Run..." her brother said breathlessly, before falling to the ground, panting heavily. "Please... Just go."

"I'll show you I can fight, Onii-chan," Orihime said determinedly. "I can do it..."

"'Onii-chan'?" the man said questioningly before letting a mischievous grin grace his features. "Interesting indeed."

And he was gone.

He ran faster than her eyes could see, and she was left staring blankly at the spot he last stood. No man should've been able to run that fast. It was impossible!

Her brother groaned and she proved herself wrong as she quickly made it to his side. Her wide eyes scanned over his body and tears welled up.

There was nothing she could do.

He'd been laying there for too long, his blood pouring out of his body, for her to save him. For her to do _anything_.

She felt useless.

He was always protecting her. He was always teaching her to protect herself and others if necessary. He taught her how to basically heal a person in six days sooner than the given time. He taught her _everything_! He _did_ everything!

_What should I do?_

Her hands went up to her hair and she gripped it tightly.

_What should I do?_

Sora gave a small, strained smile.

_What __**can**__ I do?_

Nothing.

Orihime threw her head back and screamed. Sora could only watch as she sobbed uncontrollably over his body, a pained smile on his face. He knew he was too far gone to heal and he knew she was trying to figure out something to do. But there was nothing. He was dying.

She would be alone. He didn't want that.

_She_ didn't want that.

"I'm sorry, Orihime..."

And he closed his eyes.

:::::::

Ichigo ran through the fields, kicking away bodies in his path. His sword was stained with blood from others who dared to attack him. Even though he'd never really fought in an actual battle, he had to say he was doing pretty well. His father taught him well.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

Ichigo struck down another man who tried to slice his sword through his neck, and continued running. Though he wasn't worried, he needed to find his father. It was a surprise attack and he wasn't anywhere near the man when it started.

"Dad!" Ichigo called, passing by another body. "Oi, Dad!"

The rain had stopped long ago, and yet the fires were still licking his unprotected arms. But the pain didn't register when he knew his family was in possible danger. Both his father and mother were skilled in swordsmanship, so he wasn't _particularly_ worried. However, his sisters could barely walk straight at their age, making him more concerned about them. Ichigo knew his parents could protect themselves while he watched over his siblings.

At least that's what he thought, until he turned the corner.

His father was bloodied and panting as he stood in front of his wailing sisters and equally bloodied mother. She was lying on the ground, her back to him.

Immediately, he could tell something was wrong.

Isshin's grip was extremely tight on his sword, damn near drawing blood from the pressure. His teeth were clenched behind lips that were in a tight line. His eyes burned with rage and unforgiveness.

Blood pooled under his mothers body and stained hers and his sisters kimonos. She wasn't moving.

_She wasn't moving!_

Ichigo's own grip tightened considerably and he glared murderously at the pale skinned man, who was wearing a wide grin under his squinted eyes. His grin widened as he turned towards the new presence.

"Another?" the man questioned.

Neither answered.

The mans grin grew even wider, if that was possible. "Well that's interestin'." He swung his sword onto his shoulder lazily. "Ya might want ta protect yer son as well. Ya already lost yer wife."

Ichigo's eyes widened in disbelief as he quickly looked towards his mother. Isshin glared at the man, who was facing his son.

The boy quickly ran to his mothers side and pulled her body on her back. He gasped.

A large hole sat in the middle of his mothers chest.

Ichigo saw red.

He let out a war cry, attacking the man with his sword at speeds he didn't know he possessed.

"Oh? Was I not supposed ta say that?" the man said, amusement thick in his voice.

He didn't feel like himself. Ichigo felt like something else was fighting for him. But he didn't care. All he cared about was the pain and anger he felt, shining raw in his eyes, as he sliced a clean cut into the mans leg.

His mother was dead.

This man had _murdered_ his mother!

He would _murder _him.

Ichigo went to stab the man in his midsection, but he suddenly disappeared. The boy looked around frantically to find his prey, who was standing at the top of a tree.

_How did he get there?_

"Looks like I don' have much time ta play anymore, boy," he said with a backwards step. "Say 'bye bye' ta mommy fer me."

And he was gone.

Reality came crashing down on his shoulders as his vision cleared. Ichigo wobbled a bit and slowly turned to face his family. His father was now sitting by his mothers side with his sisters in his arms. They were still sobbing loudly and that only seemed to make his heart clench at the sight more.

His grip tightened and he bowed his head.

A tear escaped his eye, followed by more. Soon, he was on his knees, sobbing loudly, desperately, _angrily_.

His mother was dead. The woman who had raised him. The woman who he loved dearly. The woman who he had swore to protect with his _life_.

She was gone.

And he couldn't do _anything_.

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_**A/N: Just slap me and call me horrible. I started yet another story when I'm a horrible updater...er? And on top of that, this is a short chapter one. And on top of THAT, it's so angsty!**_

_**Lord help me.**_

_**I changed a few things, obviously. Hope that doesn't bother you.**_

_**Please leave a review and let me know how this went. Chapters will get longer, almost as long as Of Protectors and Princesses.  
**_

_**Ja ne!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Bond Formed and Years Passed

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_Two Years Later_

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Her sword sat by her side. Her hairpins pinned her growing auburn hair back, away from her tear stained face. Her tiny balled hands covered her eyes as her small shoulders shook with sobs.

It was like this last year as well. She sat in the same exact spot, performing the same exact action.

She was alone now.

It was the same spot her brother had died on. If she looked close enough, she could still see the bloodstains dotting the ground.

More tears fell from her eyes as a choked up sob tore from her throat.

It was like this for two years. The small clinic she and her brother ran was lonelier than ever now. She was used to seeing her brother rush through the door with a person - male, female or child - perched upon his shoulder. She was used to fulfilling his orders as he tried to save the patient. She was used to sitting back and watching him sleep after a long day.

It wasn't like that anymore.

Now _she_ would have to wait until someone stumbled inside since she wasn't strong enough. Now _she_ had to perform the stitching and wrapping alone while listening to their desperate cries for her to save them. Now _she_ had to sit back and watch the door, waiting for someone else to throw the door open, injured. _She _was the one staying up for all hours of the night, hoping the patient would live.

She was still a child, yet she was doing adult work. The patients often yelled at her because they thought she was too young to be performing medical tasks on them. And she was, but she was better than no one at all.

_"My brother taught me all that I need to know and more."_

That was the sentence she would always utter when they still had their doubts. After that, even if they still thought she was inexperienced, she would patch them up and send them on their way a few days later. Despite having people in the clinic most of the time, it was still lonely.

Her brother wasn't there.

Another sob broke free as tears spilled over her clenched fist, dripping onto the soil silently. The forest was quiet, as it always was. The silence made her ears ring as gentle hiccups pierced the still air.

Footsteps resounded from behind her and Orihime tensed, immediately closing her mouth and holding her breath. She could feel the eyes of the mystery person burning her back, but she didn't dare look. She didn't want anyone, thief or not, to see her in such a pitiful state.

With careful movements, she wiped her eyes free of tears slowly, hoping the person didn't see her moving.

"You."

It was a he. His voice wasn't that deep, but it kept cracking occasionally. Orihime tensed at the sound, but kept her gaze on the ground. He sounded young, and she knew she shouldn't be too alert to avoid scaring him. Slowly, she reached out and pulled her sword closer to her body.

Her brother always got mad at her for being too trusting. He kept telling her that men and women lie, putting on fronts to make them seem innocent just to get what they wanted in the end. He even told her that some parents train their kids to haggle money from adults. But she wasn't carrying money on her. Heck, she didn't have anything but her sword with her! This kid could see that, right?

"Why are you crying?"

The question made her head snap up in surprise. How did he know she was crying? Surely he couldn't hear her sobs, could he? Did he have like super hearing or something?

She dropped her head to her chest, curling herself into a ball, as if trying to hide herself. She could still feel the eyes on her back, and she tried desperately to ignore it. Maybe if she didn't answer, he would leave.

"Answer me."

But she stayed silent.

And it was _irking_ him.

"I'm trying to help here. The least you could do is answer someone when they are talking to you."

She could feel the irritation from his person enveloping her. He _really_ wanted an answer. Sora taught her not to talk to strangers, no matter the age, and right now, she would follow his orders.

She heard a huff and a thump. A bit more shuffling and then silence. It was silent for a while before she let curiosity take over and glanced back at the unknown person.

_Bright hair..._

The very first feature that she noticed was the bright orange hair, bordering blonde. It was spiky, sticking out in many different directions and drenched in sweat. But despite the splotches of grime and blood, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

_Dark sheathe...  
_

It was midnight black and thin. No decorations or scratches. It was clean and almost brand new.

Orihime turned around fully to face the stranger, who tensed in return. His mouth was in a thin line, a scowl. His orange - almost blonde - eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and slight irritation. His cheeks were slightly chubby and his face seemed young.

But his _eyes_.

They spoke of adventures, hardships a child shouldn't have faced. Stories of a young warrior were told in those in amber orbs, and Orihime found herself leaning in to get a closer look. He flinched back and she blinked, straightening her posture and looking at the ground.

"H-Hi..."

It was spoken meekly, but it was the first thing she said since he showed up. It was a start at least.

"Yo."

It was spoken gruffly, as if he was trying to seem intimidating. It was the fifth thing he said to her, and it caused her to look up at him, studying his features.

His eyes bore into hers, but they were slightly soft, _calculating_, as if trying to figure out her past. And somehow, she found herself crying again, her exterior peeling itself off to reveal all the emotions she tried so hard to hide when he first showed up.

He just sat there, staring at her as her shoulders shook with sobs, her chin on her chest and tears flowing out of her eyes like rivers.

"I'm all alone," Orihime choked out.

And he _stared_.

"Not anymore."

Her head snapped up as she looked at him through teary eyes. He looked away, scowling at the ground.

And she _smiled._

Two years ago, Inoue Orihime lost her brother.

At age twelve, Inoue Orihime found her first friend.

:::::::

Kurosaki Ichigo lost his mother at age ten.

Two years later, he found someone to protect.

He unsheathed his sword and she did the same.

And they touched blades, sealing their bond.

:::::::

_Three Years Later_

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His eyes gazed down at the flowing river lazily. The sunlight reflected off it, making it glisten prettily as leaves fell off of the trees and slapped on the water silently. It was a fairly nice day, quiet as usual. The breeze was gentle and the trees were strong, able to hold his growing body as he lounged on a branch, one leg bent and the other hanging.

This was his mothers favorite spot. She would help him climb on the tree and hold him as they watched the sunset. It was peaceful, soothing, quiet. A nice place to think or get away when life got to overwhelming.

And it was close to Orihime.

A tinkling laughter filled the air and Ichigo found himself looking in the direction in which it came. The corner of his mouth tugged up as he watched her pull up her orange kimono and touch the water with her foot, only to giggle at the temperature and pull her foot back. He shook his head as she suddenly jumped in the ravine, kicking and splashing around childishly, laughing all the while.

"Ah! Ichigo-kun, come join me!"

Ichigo slanted Orihime a gaze. She was smiling widely, the bottom of her kimono soaked. Her hair was down to her shoulder blades now, whereas when he first met her, it just barely met her shoulders. Her face was becoming more chiseled, and her eyes were getting _wider_ somehow. Her body was filling out and Ichigo knew that she was transforming into a woman.

The orange haired man closed his eyes and folded his hands behind his head. "No thanks," he responded, making Orihime pout cutely.

She stepped out of the water and shook her feet free of the droplets clinging to them before stepping inside her wooden clogs. Her hands relinquished their grasp on the kimono and it fell, brushing against her ankles. Grabbing her sword, which was lying not too far away, Orihime ran up to the base of the tree and fisted her hands on her hips with a frown.

"Ichigo-kun, you're always in that tree whenever we meet. Get down here and play in the water!" she scolded.

He shook his head and shifted into a more comfortable position. Since they met three years ago, both agreed to meet every seven days at the river near Orihime's clinic. Both promised to carry their swords with them for protection, even though Orihime specifically told him that she would never unsheathe it. She even went as far as taping the hilt to the sheathe to avoid pulling it out. Ichigo knew this, but he still requested she bring the blade.

It was their only weapon of protection and proof of their bond.

Orihime puffed up her cheeks and grabbed onto the nearest branch. Curious, Ichigo glanced down to see her attempt to climb up, only to fall on her bottom. Sighing, he detached his sword from his hip and held it out for her, keeping a tight grip on the sheathe to keep it from slipping off of the midnight black blade.

She looked at it with wide eyes, and blinked, glancing at him. His scowl was still present, but his eyes were telling her to grab on.

She smiled, and grasped the sheathe. He pulled her up with ease, and she stepped on each branch, climbing her way to the top and settling on the branch opposite of his. Ichigo reattached the blade to his hip and resumed his comfortable position. Orihime shifted a bit and settled with both legs hanging over the side and her hands on her lap.

They sat in silence for a while, until she spoke.

"Thank you."

He grunted to let her know he heard, and slanted a glance in her direction. Her eyes were downcast at the ground, but she was smiling. A breeze drifted by and she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear when it obscured her vision.

He blinked slowly, his eyes drooping.

And faced forward.

"Ne, Ichigo-kun."

She spoke again, and he grunted.

"You'll always protect me right?"

What a stupid question.

"Of course. You never take out your blade anyway. Someone will have to if you won't do it yourself."

And she _smiled_, almost as bright as the sun.

Even though it sounded like a cold answer, she knew he meant it earnestly. He was always scowling, even when they first met, and she knew it was due to the death of his mother.

Her smile faltered.

No. Orihime shook her head and pushed her cheeks together. She had to stay bright.

One of them had to.

:::::::

_Three Years Later_

:::::::

His feet pounded on the soft soil, his breathing ragged and short. Wounds decorated his body and crimson soaked his navy blue shihakusho. It wasn't just _his blood_.

He unsheathed his blade and blood dripped off of it like a waterfall. His feet slowed and he spun on his heel, bringing the sword up just in time to block a fatal blow. Ichigo gritted his teeth and pushed the opponents' blade away. They staggered backwards and Ichigo rammed his wounded body into theirs. Both persons fell to the ground harshly, two grunts of pain erupting from their throats. The orange haired teen recovered first and got to his feet, raising his blade and impaling it into his opponents shoulder.

An agonized scream pierced the night, making the birds resting on the trees fly away in fright.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and rammed his bare foot into the mans stomach, causing another agonized grunt to reach his ears. With murderous eyes, Ichigo leaned down close to the mans face.

"Where. Are. They?"

The man coughed in reply and grinned.

"Long gone now."

Ichigo's eyes flashed.

His blade moved, and then there was more blood.

The head rolled away as Ichigo panted heavily. He stared down at the decapitated body emotionless, quietly, _hatefully_.

Then his feet _moved._

:::::::

The door slammed open.

"_Orihime!"_

She jumped violently as her name bounced off of the once quiet walls. It wasn't a yell, nor a scream. It was more like a _desperate growl_.

It scared her.

Orihime grabbed her tightly taped blade and stood slowly. Harsh footsteps stomped around her home, and she was suddenly thankful that she didn't have any patients that day.

With soft footsteps, quiet, _cautious_ footsteps, she peeked her head around the wall.

_Bright hair..._

And she ran to him.

Ichigo's eyes darted to her form, which was getting closer quickly. Relief for her welfare flooded his chest, but also dread for her safety. She stopped by his side, looking over his form and her eyes widening in concern.

"You're hurt!"

That didn't matter.

He grabbed onto her upper arm and pulled her close, their foreheads almost touching. Orihime's face colored at the proximity.

"_Are you hurt?_"

She gasped at the urgency in his tone. Her face paled as she heard the desperate growl. If it wasn't for him standing right in front of her, she would've thought it was someone else. Ichigo _never_ sounded like this! He was careful not to let much - if any - emotion show on his face or leak into his voice.

_What happened?_

"I-I'm fine," she squeaked. His grip was so tight, it almost hurt. She was sure she would have bruises in the morning.

And he collapsed, his knees thunking onto the hardwood floor painfully. Orihime gasped and dropped by his side, her arms automatically wrapping around his form.

His body was badly wounded and he was pale, losing a lot of blood fast.

Her eyes teared up.

_What the heck happened?!_

"I-Ichigo-kun..." she croaked, tears spilling over as his body went limp in her arms. She could feel his chest rising and falling slowly, and she deduced that he had passed out.

A cot. He needed a cot _now!_

After a few minutes of carefully dragging his body onto a cot and shuffling around the room for her medical supplies, she sat by his unconscious body, stitching his wounds and wrapping them. Her hands were shaking violently and she was afraid she'd messed up a stitch, but she'd worry about that later.

_What happened to him?!_

Hours passed by with no sign of him waking up. No matter how tired she was, she refused to sleep until he woke and told her how he got those wounds.

She knew him for six years. Since she was twelve. He swore to protect her, to stay by her side, to be her _friend_. And he was! She watched him grow from a child to a teen and vice versa. He helped her when she was in trouble, and she helped him with his wounds. They talked, they _connected_.

He trained her when they first met, helped her master her blade. She taught him new stances for the appropriate times.

They were almost closer than she and Sora.

_Ichigo-kun..._

Tears fell from her eyes and she sobbed, cried for hours, until she ran out of tears and her throat dried up.

And that was when he woke up.

Immediately, she was by his side, stray tears landing on his face as he gazed up at her with a solemn expression. She bit her lip.

His look was pitiful, desperate, loathing, _helpless_.

_Just what happened?_

"Ichigo-kun... What happened to you?" she asked. Her voice was raspy, but she didn't care. He was more important than her throat.

He was silent.

She knew he wasn't a man of words, giving the occasional grunt and whatnot, and she didn't mind before. But now... Now his silence was _terrifying_. She didn't like the way her ears rang as her heart pounded in her head and throat as she awaited his answer.

_Finally _he spoke.

"They took them."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "W-Who?"

_"My fucking family!_ THEY _TOOK_ THEM FROM ME!"

Orihime's eyes widened gradually and she covered her mouth.

Ichigo ran a hand over his face, clenching his teeth as his fingers pressed into his eyes.

"I'm going to get them back."

Orihime's eyes flooded with tears.

_The desperation._

_The sadness._

_The **determination.**_

_"_And you're coming with me."

All she could do was nod, tears falling cascading down her cheeks.

:::::::

At age eighteen, Kurosaki Ichigo watched as his family were bonded and dragged away from him.

And he _promised_ to get them back.

:::::::

At age eighteen, Inoue Orihime listened to his promise.

And she removed the tape from her blade.

:::::::

* * *

_**A/N: Oh Lord. That was really hard, and short -.- Hope I got some emotions stirring inside your hearts! I will explain more of this in the next chapter, and if not then, then somewhere in the story. I know you all are curious as to who our villains are, and you will find out soon, but don't assume, because there's a twist! Sorry for the late update, and the extremely short chapter. I had no inspiration and I was really busy. But I'm all good now! Banzai! I was surprised of the amount of responses I got after the first chapter! It's a huge success on my part. Thank you all! And I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. It will get longer soon!**_

_**Ja ne!**_


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